


Everything Goes

by obsessoverall



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Best Friends, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kuroken if you squint, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Sad Kuroo Tetsurou, Snow, Trains, mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 01:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsessoverall/pseuds/obsessoverall
Summary: Someone from the past keeps calling Kuroo. Kuroo tries to keep himself together. Kenma helps.





	Everything Goes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This came to me when I was reading Chapter 318 and I really tried to let go of it but it latched onto my brain and forced itself out. So. Sorry about that, I guess. This is in no way what I actually believe what happened, but it was a good exercise for me to try to write a story centered about someone through someone else's POV. I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> I hope you've read the tags. If not, let me put the TW here as well: This story contains panic attacks and mentions of abuse and anxiety. 
> 
> With that being said, I tried to convey this topic the best way that I could. Whilst thankfully I have never experienced abuse myself, I do have someone close who has had and I used their experience. You will notice that this is not in the victim's POV - this is because I did not want to assume what it is like to be a victim in such a situation. I did my research and consulted this person that I mentioned, and this is how this fic came to be. If you feel like I made a mistake in conveying this topic, feel free to inform me, but please be nice!
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this! :)

Kenma wakes up to the snow.

His room is warm, but from the white brightness coming from outside, he knows he is going to have to wear layers upon layers on top of his uniform. Not that he really minds, but the hassle makes him squirm a bit.

He stands in front of his window for a while, eyes fixed on the white street outside. It’s always been a nice sight, snow on top of his neighborhood. It’s also amusing a bit, something so calming interrupting their busy lives, creating a small-scaled panic. He then thinks vaguely of Kuroo, and how childishly happy he’ll be when he sees the snow. Kenma can already imagine it, his friends’ eyes lighting up.

“Kenma!” his mother calls, opening the door to his room. “Wake up- oh, you’re awake?” She looks surprised. Not to blame her; she’s had to wake him up personally three times just this week, and it’s Thursday. However, she gathers herself pretty quick, almost not faltering.

“What are you doing,” she muses. “Don’t just stand there; you’ll be late again!” Kenma huffs and starts dressing up, wearing the thickest socks he has. It has got to be freezing. Then comes pants, shirt, tie – what a hassle – and jacket. He stuffs his books – Kuroo helped him with chemistry last night – and Nintendo into his bag, gets his training bag and goes downstairs, where a bento box is forced into his hands by his mom, who has a smile that indicates he _has_ to eat lunch if not breakfast. Then comes his outerwear; he gets his coat and scarf and beanie, then is given earmuffs and gloves, which he puts on. It’s hard to put on boots with so many layers, but he manages, and after all that he rushes out the door so that his mom doesn’t nag more.

Kuroo is already waiting for him by the door when he gets out, hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Kenma knows he’s not wearing any gloves – he never does. He is smiling to himself as he watches more snow fall, his breath visible. Kenma kind of feels jealous that his friend can get out so carelessly, only with a coat, with no preparation, when he has to go through the whole process of putting every single article of outerwear one can think of.

“Kuro,” he mumbles. His voice is muffled by his scarf. Kuroo hears him nevertheless, his grin growing as he turns his head towards Kenma.

“You’re not _so_ late today,” he teases. Instead of acknowledging his remark, Kenma starts walking, Kuroo catching up fastly.

“Gran was talking about making an apple pie tomorrow,” he mentions. Kenma makes a noise of approval, trying to get his face more into his scarf. Despite all his attempts of warmth, he’s cold.

“Oh,” Kuroo says. He stops and opens his backpack to get out a scarf, wrapping it around Kenma. “You should come by if you have time,” he offers when they start walking again. “I know the grown-ups would be okay with it.” Kenma shrugs, his teeth chattering.

They arrive at the train station. It’s only then that Kenma takes his gloves off and gets his phone out, opening up his game. He can feel Kuroo’s gaze from his back, watching him play as they wait. With the arrival of the train, they get in, sitting on the seats nearest to the doors.

They’re silent throughout the ride. Which would normally be weird since normally Kuroo would try to make some conversation if he senses that Kenma’s up to it, but today’s a snow day and Kenma can see from the corner of his eye that Kuroo’s turned towards the back, looking out from the window. It really doesn’t make much sense to Kenma, how much Kuroo likes the snow, especially since they get it almost every year, even though it’s not really much. His friend gets excited every time it snows like it’s the first time he’s seen it. He’ll never admit it, but he finds it a bit endearing, seeing Kuroo’s eyes light up in happiness. He knows this year’s been a bit hard for his friend with all the workload.

“You know who I bet has seen a lot of snow? Lev,” Kenma remarks, eyes not leaving the game. It’s Kuroo’s turn to hum in acknowledgment. They don’t talk for the rest of the ride, but it’s a comfortable silence.

They arrive to school and part ways after deciding to meet up in the main hallway for lunch.

The day passes pretty quickly, as it always does with snowy days. The white sky always seems to have an energizing effect on everyone. It is overall a pleasant day, throughout which Kenma finds himself enjoying the flow of classes and friendly classroom chatter around him. He doesn’t even mind the fact that they have practice after school.

“Kenma,” one of his classmates calls as he’s gathering his stuff. “Your friend is here.” His classmates are still a bit wary around Kuroo and his messy hair and up-to-no-good grin, even though the boy has repeatedly – albeit unintentionally – proven that it’s all superficial.

“Oi,” Kuroo waves. His hair is even more disheveled than the usual. His tie’s loose, and his jacket is slightly wet.

“Did you have a snowball fight,” Kenma says, a statement more than a question. Kuroo shrugs. Upon walking closer towards him, Kenma realizes that his hair’s wet as well.

“Just don’t get sick,” he mumbles. The grin on Kuroo’s face only grows at that, to which Kenma huffs and they start walking to the gym.

The practice goes fine, meaning everyone’s up to their usual antics.

“Let’s eat out together tonight. Would that be okay for everyone?” Kuroo calls out when he gets out of the shower. He’s got a towel wrapped around his waist and hair, although Kenma’s pretty sure he’s doing the latter just for the sake of it.

“You are a drama queen,” Yaku teases, and Kenma’s thoughts are confirmed as Kuroo does a twirl with a ridiculous pose at the end.

It’s all fun when they change, the first years poking and teasing each other as the others joke around. It’s a chaotic kind of fun, but Kenma doesn’t mind it.

It starts to become a bit off when he notices that Kuroo is frozen in his place next to him, frowning slightly at his phone. When he notices Kenma looking, he shrugs.

“Unknown number,” he mumbles and starts dressing up, and Kenma chalks it up to confusion. He starts wearing his layers one by one, shrugging when Lev looks slightly horrified and Yamamoto starts snickering.

The sky is pitch black when they go outside, but since they’re in a large group Kenma doesn’t really mind. It is, however, colder than even before, and Kenma starts shivering the minute the swing open the gym door. Kuroo seems to notice and hands Kenma the scarf he put on him in the morning, which Kenma puts on so tight with only some ironical hope for choking to death. They go to the place they always go to when they have these sorts of get-togethers. Next to him, Kuroo’s not really getting into the conversation anymore. Kenma can sense that he has also finished his socializing for the day, knowing that his friend, despite not showing it that much, sometimes strains himself to break free of his slightly-introverted nature. He sometimes finds the whispered conversations amongst his classmates about his friend being too cool for Kenma amusing for this particular reason.

He minds his own business as they walk, bummed that he can’t continue his game because he’s wearing gloves. His friends keep chattering around him, though, and he keeps himself occupied by listening to them. Kuroo’s phone starts ringing next to him. Upon seeing the screen his friend huffs and rejects the call.

“The same number again,” he explains to Kenma. “Maybe it’s just a granny that keeps calling me because they think I’m their overworking son,” he jokes. He looks a bit thrown off, though. It is unsaid, but Kenma hears the ‘ _Let’s hope,’_ behind his words.

The team is overjoyed at the smell of food when they get in. Kenma really doesn’t get it, but he is fond of the sight of his friends trying to inhale all their food at once. He plays with his food a bit until Kuroo nudges him to eat some, backed up by Yamamoto and Kai. At the end of it all, they pay up and get to their own ways home, Kenma and Kuroo walking up to the train station.

“Tonight was fun, huh?” Kuroo asks softly. His nose is a bit flushed from the cold and he stuffs his hands deeper into his pocket.

“Just take the scarf back,” Kenma replies, taking the said item off. “You’re gonna freeze to death.”

“Shh. Not like I’m a fan of scarves,” Kuroo dismisses, pushing the scarf back to Kenma’s hands. “I bet you’re _freezing_.” His tone is teasing, but Kenma knows he’s concerned. He can be a bit like an overbearing mother sometimes, and Kenma already has one of those. It’s undeniably a funny sight, though, Kuroo huffing as he wraps the scarf back around Kenma’s already wrapped-up neck.

Tokyo’s lights are on as they ride through the city. Kenma takes out his Nintendo from his backpack.

“New game?” Kuroo asks from next to him, leaning over his shoulder.

“Yeah; I told you about it last week,” Kenma mumbles.

“Ah, the one with the never-ending levels?”

“Hm.”

Kuroo’s phone starts ringing again, obnoxiously loud in the quiet train. He huffs.

“Hello,” he greets.

Kenma pauses the game. He vaguely hears a feminine voice from the other end of the call.

Kuroo’s face drops upon hearing the voice. “Don’t call this number again,” he says coldly, hanging up. He meets Kenma’s eyes, and shrugs, trying to give a small smile but looking a bit out of it.

Kenma doesn’t question it. When Kuroo wants to talk about it, he will. He resumes the game, knowing that it’ll distract his friend as well. They hang out like that until they arrive at their station.

“Night,” Kuroo grins when they part ways. He seems better.

“See you tomorrow,” Kenma mumbles, hoping that the number doesn’t call his friend again.

\----

The number calls again the next day at lunch. Just as Kuroo’s trying to sneak something into his lunchbox. They both freeze, looking at the phone on Kenma’s desk.

Kuroo slowly lowers his chopsticks into the lunchbox, reaching out for the phone. The corners of his mouth are slightly turned downwards. Kenma hasn’t seen him look so sour since they found out his father was allergic to cats so they couldn’t get one when he was eleven.

“I told you not to call me,” he opens the call, voice colder than Kenma’s ever heard of. It’s slightly disturbing, seeing his friend this way.

“No,” Kuroo huffs. “I don’t want that. I want nothing to do with you. _Stop. Calling.”_ He hangs up so forcefully that Kenma hears his tap on the screen. Smacking the phone to the desk, Kuroo rests his head between his hands, breathing heavily. It’s the first time Kenma’s seen him expel his anger this way. The uncharted territory almost throws him off, but he wills through it, touching Kuroo’s shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

“You okay?” he asks. Kuroo shakes his head like he’s trying to encourage himself as he raises his head.

“Yeah,” he answers, clipped, but his voice is breathy and he still looks visibly angry, which is really odd. Kuroo hasn’t been this angry since he found out that the third years were giving Kenma trouble last year. Even then he didn’t look like this – it’s almost as if there is pain in his eyes, which Kenma has _never_ seen in Kuroo. His friend has always been easygoing; sure he felt sad at times but never _pain_ like this. Despite his concerns, he still doesn’t say anything. They eat and move on with the day. Kuroo, however, looks off throughout, and for the first time since forever, Kenma doesn’t know what to say when Coach Nekomata asks what’s wrong with Kuroo.

They go to Kuroo’s house after practice, and as promised, the smell of apple pie greets them.

“Kenma, my boy,” Kuroo’s grandmother greets when she opens the door to them. “Why don’t you visit me, huh? Am I not fun for you anymore?”

Kenma gives a small smile to that as he starts taking off his ten layers of clothing. Kuroo forces his boots and coat off and starts helping him, huffing in doing so.

“You and your ridiculous layering,” he mumbles, clearly amused. “Hi, gran.”

“Don’t be so harsh on the boy,” his grandma warns him, grinning the same way as her grandson. “He’s already so thin; you’ll break him!”

“Not if he breaks me first,” Kuroo jokes, which earns him an elbow from Kenma. He chuckles.

“See?”

Kenma shrugs his coat off and with that, he’s finally free. The old woman tuts when he sees him.

“You’ve gotten even thinner,” she complains, frowning.

“I weigh the same,” Kenma states.

“Nonsense,” she complains. “I can see you’ve gotten thinner. Don’t go against your granny, huh?”

“I’m your grandson,” Kuroo starts, however she interrupts again.

“Kenma’s as close as you,” she huffs. “Now you two, go to Tetsuro’s room, hm? Grandpa’s in the city and told me he’ll be home in a bit.”

Kenma likes Kuroo’s grandparents. His own are long passed away.

They take their books out to do homework when they go upstairs to Kuroo’s room.

“Kuro,” Kenma says. “Can you look at this question?”

“Sure,” Kuroo mumbles absentmindedly, looking up from his phone.

“Again?” Kenma asks after his friend stares at the question blankly for a while. It’s the first time he’s acknowledging it. Kuroo sighs, tapping the end of his pencil on the paper.

“Not now,” he says softly after a few seconds. “I’ll tell you... just not now.” Kenma nods silently, the air heavy between them.

They hear the front door closing. Kuroo’s grandma calls them for dinner soon after. As they’re eating Kuroo’s father also joins them when he comes home, ruffling his son’s and Kenma’s hair as he sits down. Kenma and Kuroo finish early and go to the living room to play with the console Kenma got Kuroo for his birthday years ago.

 _So that we can play together,_ he had said.

“Mind if I sit here?” Kuroo’s father asks them. They shrug, eyes trained on the game. By now it is a tradition for them to play every Friday. Kuroo makes a noise of approval, and they continue.

“It’s funny that you guys don’t talk during that thing,” his father muses.

“Shh,” Kuroo shushes. He’s not the biggest fan of games but Kenma thinks he’s letting loose today after the phone incident.

The atmosphere is broken with the loud shrill of Kuroo’s phone. Kuroo looks visibly startled as he grabs it tightly and rushes out of the room, leaving Kenma looking as confused as his friend’s father.

After some time, Kuroo’s muffled yet tense voice vaguely audible from the other room, Kuroo comes back. His eyes are panic-stricken and his breathing is off, looking at anywhere but his dad.

 _Now_ Kenma’s worried. Kuroo looks like the helpless child he first met.

“Tetsu?” his father asks, frowning slightly. Kuroo shakes his head.

“I-I’m fine,” he murmurs. His hands are shaking a bit. “I-I’ll just-“ With that, he darts off the room. Kenma drops the console and trails after him, game forgotten.

He knocks Kuroo’s door.

“It’s open,” is what follows a sniffle.

Kenma enters the room quietly and closes the door shut, frowning when Kuroo flinches at the _click_ sound it makes.

His friend is sitting behind the bed, hugging his knees. He’s crying, but it’s not the same way he cried when he was leaving Kenma to go to high school. It’s also not the same way he cried when the neighborhood cat passed away. It’s combined with an off-beat, hysterical wheezing, which his friend tries to gulp away but fails, choking slightly. It reminds Kenma of his own panicked bouts.

“Hey,” he calls gently.

“Ke-Kenma,” his friend wails quietly.

“You’re okay, Kuroo,” Kenma says calmly. “Now breathe with me, okay?” Kuroo’s eyes widen in realization to this, as he’s done it so many times to Kenma.

It takes a while to calm Kuroo down, but Kenma doesn’t stop with the exercise. At some point, Kuroo’s breathing slows down and he leans against his friend. Kenma has questions but he’s not going to ask after that.

“Do you want some water?” he offers instead.

“Please don’t leave,” Kuroo begs.

“Okay.”

They stay like that for a while, until Kuroo passes out from exhaustion. After shrugging under him, Kenma leaves the room quietly.

“Is he okay?” Kuroo’s dad asks, worried.

“Yeah,” Kenma breathes. He really doesn’t know what else to say.

\----

Saturday morning has them rushing off to school for electives, not talking much. Kuroo looks like he underslept, bed-hair shaggier than usual. Kenma wants to ask if he’s okay but he’s not really sure if it’s necessary – Kuroo obviously looks shaken up. In his mind is a list of what could possibly have made his friend feel so bad, and he reasons things off one by one as he plays his game on the train.

When they arrive at school, Kenma almost doesn’t want to leave his friend alone. Kuroo breaks out a smile when he hesitates.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures. His smile is genuine and it doesn’t help Kenma’s worries, but helps him leave a little calmer anyways.

The day goes surprisingly calm. Whatever happened last night seems to have passed, and Kuroo, despite looking a bit shaken up, is back to his easygoing self, not missing a spike or a block in practice.

_Until._

They don’t even see it at first – it’s only when Yuki mentions with curious eyes, “Um, Kuroo-senpai. There’s a lady at the door. She told the coach she was looking for you.”

To Kenma, it all happens in flashes. Kuroo turns his head absentmindedly to the door. His whole body goes rigid when he sees a middle-aged woman with dark hair standing, dropping the ball. His hands start shaking again, in fists, but his eyes fill with a rage Kenma’s never seen in Kuroo before. He rushes towards the woman, opening the door harshly, and forces her out, slamming the door behind him.

The entire gym goes silent.

“Who is that?” Yaku asks Kenma. Kenma shrugs, startled.

“I don’t know,” he answers.

“Let’s resume the practice,” coach nudges. “Kuroo can join us when he’s... done.”

When Kuroo comes back he doesn’t acknowledge what took place, however, his grin is obviously forced. It’s disturbing to see him so obviously faking it with no care, especially when Kenma knows how much his friend cares for looking natural as the team captain, someone that the rest of the team lean on. He stays rigid until they wave the team goodbye.

“You can drop the smile,” Kenma states as they wait for the train. The weather’s colder than ever, but he’s not entirely sure the cold is the thing that makes him shiver when Kuroo’s face falls, the smile replaced by something cold.

“I _hate_ her,” he rasps. Kenma’s startled from the venom in his voice.

Kuroo sniffles, and turns to him. “S-She said she wanted to s-see me again. T-that she was going to...” His eyes fill with tears. “Kenma, I don’t wanna see her again!” He throws himself at Kenma, latching onto him like a lifeline. Kenma, on his tiptoes, hugs him back, not knowing what to do. He can feel his heaving breaths at this point, and rubs his back to calm him a bit.

“Shh, you’re not going anywhere...” he comforts. He tries to take his mind off of how _everyone’s_ looking at them for the sake of his friend. Fortunately, the train arrives and they have to break apart to get in.

“Wanna talk about it?” Kenma asks once they find a relatively secluded place to stand on. Kuroo wipes his tears on the hem of his coat, sniffling. Kenma waits for him to calm down quietly, his hand on his friend’s arm despite his discomfort.

“My mom,” he manages after a while, and Kenma’s blood freezes. They _never_ talk about Kuroo’s mom. It’s about the only topic that is off the limits for Kuroo. Kenma remembers how hard his eyes got when the others teased him about it in elementary school, how sad he used to get on Mothers’ Day. He was seemingly past it in the past years, though, unbothered whenever people asked him what it was like to live with his grandparents and father. It didn’t Kenma from never opening the subject.

Until now, that is, apparently.

“Your... mom?” he asks, voice as smooth as he can manage.

“She’s not a g-good person, Kenma; she...” he sucks in a breath and holds it for so long that Kenma thinks he’s going to pass out. When he exhales, it is slowly, like he’s trying to calm himself down. It is quiet for a while.

“She was... not very nice,” Kuroo says after a while. “She used to... say things that y-you shouldn’t say to a child, a-and she used to _scream_ at my dad and throw things at...” He trails off, gulping audibly. Kenma’s can hear his own heartbeat.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers.

“I want to,” Kuroo says. He sighs. “God, I’m blowing this out of proportion. I-it wasn’t really much; she just used to s-scold me _really_ harshly and-“ A tear drops down from his chin onto his coat.

“What did she want?” Kenma asks.

“S-She told me she was ill, mentally. T-that she was getting help, and that she wanted to... rekindle, I guess.”

Kenma huffs. “Just like that?”

“I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to tell dad. H-He deserves to know.”

Kenma slowly reaches to his hand, holding it gently. They fall silent for a while.

“I just don’t...” Kuroo says, frustrated.

“I know,” Kenma murmurs, thumb running up and down on Kuroo’s hand. “We’ll get you through this.” It’s the most serious he’s ever felt, and he knows that Kuroo can sense it too.

Kuroo’s eyes fill with tears again. “I love you, Kenma,” he says, hugging him closer.

“I know, you big cat. I love you too.”

The train stops – their station.

The door opens to the white that surrounds them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. Please leave a kudos and/or comment if you liked it!
> 
> See you later! :)


End file.
